


Midnight

by scholarlydragon



Category: Greek Mythology, Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, First Night, Romance, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-10-03 15:07:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17286341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scholarlydragon/pseuds/scholarlydragon
Summary: Persephone wakes in the middle of the night.(companion piece to “Sleepless”)





	Midnight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jessy Ellis (heyjessypants)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyjessypants/gifts).



> For Jessy.  
> In appreciation for your first story.  
> It’s all downhill from here…

I’m not sure where I am at first. The dark bedroom is unfamiliar.

It isn’t long though, before a few facts sift through my sleep-clogged brain. It’s never quite this cold at home… and there is the slow rhythm of a snore behind me.

I can’t stop the smile that breaks across my face.

Turning over, cocooned into the warm blankets and careful not to jostle the bed too much, I face my companion.

Despite the size of the bed, he is crowded close to me. I can nearly feel the body heat radiating from him in the scant space between us. His face is half-burrowed into his pillow, only the left side visible. Sound asleep, silver-white hair tousled and unruly, his arms buried under the pillow and hugging it to his head. I smile. The image of the carefully put-together executive, the king in a three-piece suit, is so utterly at odds with this rumpled creature snoring into his pillow.

He is ridiculous. A contradiction of cool collection and stammering nervousness, a man who sneers in the boardroom yet smiles sweetly whenever anyone takes the time to ask about his dogs. I think I will enjoy figuring him out.

The blanket on his side of the bed has slipped down, exposing the scars that run jagged across his skin, the pale blue, puckered lines interrupting the muscled planes of his back. My hand ghosts out of the blankets, pale pink against the dark room, and I follow the contours of his shoulder blade and its map of scars, a scant breath of air separating our skin. Memories of the previous night crash over me.

It was a… tumultuous evening. Tears and confessions and mutual comforting giving way to heated fumblings and searing bliss. I remember gripping his shoulder, just here,  _ just so _ , as duetted gasps filled the darkened bedroom.

I don’t know how I will explain this change in my life to anyone. To be sure, mama will not understand. I’ve heard too much venom in her voice over the years when she speaks of him to think she will take it well. Similarly with Artemis. But I find I don’t care. I have spent my entire existence constantly worrying about how best I can serve and look after others. Admittedly, that life is not such a long time, but when everything I have ever known has revolved around what I can do for others… nineteen years is an eternity.

But lying here, next to him, I know this is where I am meant to be. This is  _ right _ . I made the decision that, for once, I would be selfish. I would do what I wanted. And now I am here.

I reach out and comb my fingers into the fall of his hair, brushing it back. I’m not sure how I ever got away with telling myself I just liked looking at his “dorky face”. In my defense, though, I’d never had a crush before.

He stirs, brow furrowing slightly as sleep recedes, and the eye not covered by the pillow opens slowly. He blinks a little, blearily, before focusing on me, and the visible corner of his mouth curls up into a heart-rending smile.

“Hello, sweetness.”

His rich voice is graveled with sleep and it skitters down my spine, pooling heat low in my belly. I shiver, though I am far from cold.

He notices.

“Are you all right? I can go turn up the heat if you’re cold.” His hand rubs up and down my arm as though to gauge how chilled I might be.

“No, I- um…” I stammer as I feel my cheeks heat in a furious blush. Why is it so hard to say? Scant hours ago, before collapsing into sleep, we were as close as two people can be. How can it still disconcert me so badly to say that I want him? Easier to show with actions than words. His heat draws me in like a lodestone and I burrow against his chest, tangling my legs with his.

It’s clear the moment he realizes that the problem is not that I’m cold. He grins crookedly, a glint of mischief in his eye… which definitely does not help my flustered state.

“Oh,” he says, simply, laughter in his voice and a wealth of meaning in the single syllable. His arms slide around me, pulling me close and cupping my butt to pull my hips close against his own. I shudder as I feel the insistent evidence of his own desire, the hard pressure a perfect inversion of my own empty ache. My gasp is swallowed as he kisses me, the caress of his lips as heated as the slide of his fingers over my hip and thigh, over, upward, and _ inward. _

I shudder hard, gasping out a moan into his mouth at the invasion, so foreign until recently. My hands knead at his chest and shoulders, clutching for something, anything, to ground myself against the swell of sensation drowning my thoughts.

“Easy, sweetness,” he whispers, flexing his hand against me, into me. “Relax.” His lips settle against my forehead, pressing a kiss there as I gasp and shudder. “I’ve got you.” I blindly fumble my hand between our bodies, searching him out, the vague thought surfacing through the pleasure searing my brain that I should repay what he is doing in some way. He catches my wrist, pulling my hand away and placing it against his chest, covering it with his own free hand. “Not this time. I just want you to feel.”

I groan, left with nothing to distract from the spiraling tension his fingers stoke in me. Nothing except… Reaching up with both hands, I cup his face between them and do my best to kiss him senseless. His groan slips out between our lips, chased by my own as a twist of his fingers spurs the fire coursing through my veins. The white-hot knot around my spine draws tighter and tighter… until…

I tear away from his lips with a shocked gasp, the unbearable sense of teetering on the edge of some vast abyss stealing the air from my lungs. His red eyes stare into mine, full of lust, pride, and love. He breathes, “That’s it.”

In the next moment, I am gone, flung into the hot, shuddering dark. I am only dimly aware that I have collapsed against his chest, contractions and spasms wracking my body, almost whimpering in the grip of what consumes me.

For a long moment, I am helpless, suspended. Slowly, though, my senses return. My body slowly relaxes, though the aftershocks still tremble through me. I am not sated. Hunger for him consumes me, merely whetted.

“Please. Oh… please…” I hardly recognize my own voice, the sound distorted by trembling need.

“As you wish.” There is a terrible strain in his voice. With a gentle push, then an insistent pull, he turns me over and drags me back against his body in an encompassing embrace. He curls around me, his chest pressed against my back and hands roaming over me doing more to banish the cold than blankets ever could.

His hand, sliding down my thigh, hooks onto my knee. He hitches my leg back and over his own, opening me fully to his touch. There is no preamble, no cautious query. The need in both of us is too great. I feel him against me then, with a flex of his hips, he is stretching me, more than his fingers ever could.

With a cry ripped from my throat at the sheer perfection of feeling him sliding into me, I reach back blindly, fumbling for a grip on his hip, desperate for more, only knowing that I need all of him as soon as possible. Whispering soothing noises in my ear, he catches my hand and interlaces our fingers. “Easy, love. I’m not going anywhere.” The world narrows into the small dark space of the bed, the reality of him fills my senses as he lodges fully within me. Then begins to move. 

Exquisite sensation steals my thoughts, my focus, everything but the awareness of our linked hands, his heaving chest against my back, and the blinding pleasure. It isn’t long before the warning trembles in my core begin once more.

The gusts of his breath against my ear turn deeper and more ragged and I know he is close, even as he chuckles hoarsely. “I can feel that, sweetness. Are you going to come for me again?” Reaching down with the hand still joined with mine, he presses our fingers against me, stroking the hot, tight bundle of nerves. I convulse immediately and he laughs against my shoulder.

I can only handle a few strokes before the tension in me shatters. As I tumble over the edge, he gives a strangled cry and drives once more, hard, against me. I can feel his release, hot, wet surges deep inside.

As our bodies slowly relax, he rains kisses along the back of my neck and the curve of my shoulder, whispering endearments and words of love as caresses against my skin. He holds me close, as I still hold him, and the moment is perfect.

I don’t know what the future will bring. But for now… this is enough.


End file.
